


Beauty in a Moment

by wook77



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Light Bondage, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wook77/pseuds/wook77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's on display and you can't quite decide where to start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty in a Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2007 and posted [here](http://wook77.livejournal.com/157927.html). Written in 2nd person POV.
> 
> Many many thanks to my two betas chrome_animagus and sassy_cissa for the beta.

It's the brush of a hand across hair. It's the continued touch of fingertip against nose, lips, cheek, throat, collarbone. It's the feel of her breast in your hand that entrances you, demands that you keep going. 

You can't quite decide where to touch next, each part is equally as lovely. You’re drawn to the way her hair falls across her face, obscuring her eyes. The way the muscles in her arms tense as she struggles against the bonds that are keeping them above her head. She's laid out like a feast and, like a glutton, you just can't quite decide where to start because you know once you start, you won't stop until you've experienced everything she has to offer. 

Her legs are splayed and she's on display. Even better, she knows it and she plays to it, her toes stretch out, pointing towards you as she bends her knee and opens herself just a bit wider. You stand there, at the side of your bed, and barely resist moving away from her face, her hair, her neck. You don't want to ruin the moment but you can't possibly resist touching her arm, tracing the straining muscles as she holds the silk cords tight within her hands, almost as if she's insisting that _she_ is the one that put herself into this position instead of you. 

You know better and, as she gasps your name, you finally start to remove your own clothes. Your fingertip traces a button before sliding it out of the hole. Another button, another trace and another inch of skin revealed. Your hands touch yourself, weighing a breast and tweaking a nipple before you trace down your sides, arching your back and allowing the fabric to slide off your arms. 

The cool air hits your skin and you shiver, nipples hardening just that much further. Her eyes watch as you shake your head, the swing of your long dark locks brushing your sides. You straighten and then, as her eyes take in every slow movement, you unbutton the top button of your trousers and then, ever so slowly with your pinky finger straight out and pointing towards Lavender as she lays on the bed, you slide the zipper down. Your hips shake and shimmy – rightleftrightleftrightleft – as you push the trousers off your hips, leaving you in your thin, pink frilly knickers. You grin as she looks at the ruffles of lace and then her gaze sweeps up your body while your hands trace the path. 

"Parvati," she breathes out and you start dancing to the music in your head. Your hips do a figure eight as you start to move. Your shoulders sway to the tempo and your hands aren't idle, either. This – this teasing tormenting movement as she's forced to watch and not touch - feels so right, dancing here for Lavender. They cup your breasts once more before sliding up your body, across your own face and then into the air. Just as she seems to catch on to the rhythm, you change it, thrusting a hip to the right and stopping, thrusting a hip to the left and stopping. Your back arches and your breasts jiggle slightly. 

As your hands drop and hold on to your hips, her eyes widen. You don't stop there, though. Instead, you continue running your middle finger just inside the edge of your knickers.

"Watch," you command and then your hand disappears into your knickers and you can feel how wet you are just from moving and her watching. You fuck yourself with your fingers, thrusting hard up into your cunt, feeling the wetness coat you and your fingers. Lavender moans and you aren't at all sorry that you're ignoring her beautifully, gorgeously damaged flesh. You're too busy concentrating on your fingers as they slipslide in and out of your body, the way that you rub your clit with your thumb, pressing against it with just enough pressure. 

Lavender keeps watching but you can tell that she wants to be touched, that she's feeling neglected with the way that her legs start moving, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. She's still on display, still splayed and open and waiting. Hand coming out of your knickers, you rest your wet fingers against your lips and then suck them in, one by one. Your mouth is full of your own taste and your moan echoes Lavender's. 

Moving quickly, you press your lips to hers, thrusting your tongue in before she can even register that you moved. The taste of your cunt passes over your tongue onto hers and she moans into your mouth, pushing up and closer, delving deeper and taking control. Allowing it for the moment, you only touch her with your lips, your hands stay at your sides as you test your will power to keep from touching her.

Because that's exactly what you want right now. You want to take your hands and touch the mass of scarred flesh on her shoulder and her right breast. She thinks it's ugly most of the time, makes sure that she doesn't wear clothing that could show it and you try to subvert that by buying her clothes that show it off. It's a mark of courage, a show that she faced a demon and won. 

Finally breaking the kiss, you mouth your way across her cheek, down her neck to the scarring. Your breast brushes against the side of her chest as you lean over her and suck her nipple into your mouth, nipping at it lightly. She likes the rougher touch on this breast, she can feel the rougher touch through the scarring and so you give it to her. You do anything she asks you to, really, because you love her. Always loved her, truth be known, so you remember every single thing that makes her gasp and moan and writhe. You want her dripping, completely soaked and begging for it. The demanding gasps start as you bite down on her breast just to the side of the nipple.

Moving across her chest, you leave a trail of red marks from your nipping and then, when you reach her left breast, you're gentler, licking it instead of biting. Hands finally touch skin and the warmth and weight of her breast fills your hand. She arches up into your touch and gasps your name again. No one says your name quite like she does and you can feel your insides knotting further. If she could touch you, if she could move so that her mouth would be on _your_ breast like your mouth is on hers, you would come, shattering into a thousand pieces and begging her to put you back together. As it is, though, she's forced to stay within the confines of her bonds. 

Your hand traces the outside of her breast, down her stomach and then you barely touch – fingertips brushing, lightly walking – her mound. Your mouth follows your hand's path, sucking at her stomach, darting your tongue into her belly button. And then your own taste on your tongue is replaced by hers as you lick her clit. She arches her back once more and you suck it into your mouth, capturing it between your teeth and rolling it there with your tongue. At the same time, your fingers thrust up into her and she screams, screams like an animal. 

Your fingers keep fucking her, twisting and thrusting. Two and then three fingers slip inside her. Cocking your hand just right, you manouver your thumb and rub across her clit, varying from thumb to tongue to thumb. You pull your mouth away and then shift once more to thrust four fingers into her. You have almost your whole hand in her cunt and she's pleading now, "Parvati, please, please, I have to come, please touch me, I need you, please, I'm going to come, let me come," as she rocks against her bonds. Her wrists are going to be chafed but you don't much care, not right now. 

Her pleading is sweet music to you, it keeps you wet and wanting as your eyes run up the length of her body, smiling as your eyes meet. "Watch," you command once more and she does. She watches as you lean closer to her clit and then, as her breath seizes up in anticipation, you blow one small puff of breath across her wet mound. She shatters as you watch, screaming and bucking and crying. Her cunt squeezes against your fingers and you think that she's never come so hard in all your years together. 

When she sags into the bed – boneless, breathless – you slide back up her body, lining your breasts together and press into her body as your hands undo the silk ties. As soon as she's free, her arms swing around you while her legs come up and you're completely surrounded by her.

_Touch_ , she's completely around you.

_Sight_ , you can only see her satisfied smile and the love shining from her eyes.

_Smell_ , her unique scent fills your nostrils and you breathe deeply. 

_Taste_ , she's still on your tongue and you roll the flavour around in your mouth. 

_Sound_ , her panting fills your ears.

This is what love is, this being surrounded and surrounding. This is exactly what you love about Lavender, have always loved about Lavender before you even kissed the first time.


End file.
